Resurgence of a Jedi - Revised Edition
by efhb1994
Summary: Evading the Great Jedi Purge, Jarik Shan is sent into the neighbouring galaxy by a malfunctioning hyperdrive and goes into hiding on an uncharted backwater world. It's been a few months and he has done some good by opposing the Warlords of Africa yet it has drawn the ire of SHIELD. Little did anyone know it was the start of a journey and eventually the founding of the Avengers.
1. Prologue

**RESURGENCE OF A JEDI**

 **A Star Wars Story**

It is a period of civil unrest following the end of the Clone Wars. The Jedi Order has been destroyed and the remaining Jedi are marked for death. The Galactic Empire is establishing their totalitaren rule while the Jedi goes into hiding.

Evading the Great Jedi Purge, Jarik Shan is sent into the neighbouring galaxy by a malfunctioning hyperdrive and goes into hiding on an uncharted backwater world. Embracing his mandalorian heritage while resorting to make a living through mercenary work.

Little did he know that he's being monitored by S.H.I.E.L.D. whom dispatches top agents Hawkeye and Black Widow on a mission of great importance to intercept him in West Africa.

...

 **21** **st** **November 2010  
Abidjan, Ivory Coast**

Africa, the continent where it all began. Where humanity took their first step on the evolutionary ladder yet it was one of the least developed continent in the world. Criminality has emerged over the decades due to poverty and explotion of the western world. Despite his professional exterior, he couldn't help but feel sentimental about it. After all, what if his children were born here? He shruddered at the thought. At the end of the day, nothing mattered more than Family. Right now though, he had his mission.

It was around twenty seven degrees celsius warm in Abidjan the economic capital of the Ivory Coast and he was sneaking on rooftops in the slum of Adjamé and was on the lookout while his partner was on the ground. Black Widow seldom showed any kind of sentimentality and was dangerous to say the least. Hawkeye was glad that his decison to spare her in Budapest was justified; otherwise he wouldn't have made it out alive either.

Nick Fury had briefed them personally earlier. "A few months ago, we got word of a man in strange armor beating the craps out of Warlords left and right in Africa and have effectively stalled the drug trafficking. Naturally that has pissed people off. We thought at first it was Ironman being responsible but then we got this." A low-resolution image showing a man in full body armor which looks more clunkier than the Ironman suit. It obviously been through a lot as the blue paintjob have tarnished away revealing the dull steel color underneath. That is the extent of what the image shows them as the rest is a blur and shadows. "The locals call him the Shadow Warrior."

"Any positive ID?" Black Widow has inquired. "Negative, there's no record of him anywhere. He's an enigma and I don't like enigmas." With that being the last thing said of substance. They went aboard a Quinjet for the Ivory Coast. Fury was convinced that if the Shadow Warrior was targeting drug trafficking then Abidjan was the next likely target due to the exports to Europe and Middle East was through the economic capital. "Anything Clint?" His partner asked over the coms.

"Nothing yet." He commented as his gaze swept through the slum. There was nothing out of the ordinary; urchins, squalor and beggars. All of which you can expect from a slum but then something caught his eye. Something was moving across the rooftops like an acrobat. "I got movement on roofs; three streets down." He reported and he could tell that his partner was in pursuit. Hawkeye started to move aswell, relocating to another vantage point in order to not lose sight of the Shadow Warrior. "Wait, he stopped." Clint reported as he spot the Shadow Warrior crouching down by the ledge of a roof. His gaze upon one of the houses in the suburbs. This was the first time Hawkeye could get a good look of the guy. The body armor was strange to say the least; it looks heavy and has the hints of a blue paintjob which has long since tarnished. It's like someone made a Ironman suit without the Arc reactor and put a super human in it since he moved fast and like an acrobat. Hawkeye estimated that he's roughly around six feet in height but mostly due to the armor. The helmet had a T-shaped visor but Hawkeye couldn't make out his weaponry at this distance and he remained still for a short moment before vaulting down and threw something into the building. A grenade, no a flashbang. He could make it out from here. "Eyes on target, he just threw a Flashbang into the building."

"I see him." his partner replied while he notched and arrow on the bowstring as the mysterious Shadow Warrior entered the building with a rumble which ended as fast as it had started.

…

Jarik Shan vaulted through the broken kitchen window where he had moment before thrown a flashbang grenade. The sound was defeaning and the blinding light hit the residents like fireworks. His EE-3 carbine rifle set to stun as he fired three shots in quick succesion; subduing the drug dealers whom fell to the ground like sacks of potatoes. It had been quick and effective, like his previous works of taking down the drug exports in Africa. He had arrived on Earth months ago after the hyperdrive of a stolen G9 Rigger freighter malfunctioned. It had sent him beyond Wild Space to a neighbouring galaxy. If anyone had told him that before that point, he would've called them crazy but it seems like it was the Will of the Force. It was an unsuspecting backwater world with no interstellar capabilities thus he hide in the most undeveloped part of the world. To discover that there were warlords whom used children as manpower in their forces and was doing drug trafficking. He had to struggle to remain calm; instead he went on a crusade to fight the wrong-doers in Africa. He was about to pull the drug dealers out and set the house on fire before he felt something heading his way. His precognition warning him of a coming blow which narrowly missed him as he threw himself to the side. He quickly got back up to his feet and turned with his blaster carbine raised at his assailant. It was a woman, a red head in a skintight jumpsuit whom had drawn her firearms while he moved away from her. They had each other in their crosshairs at point-blank range. Her vivid green eyes stare coldly right at him through the visor, like if she knew there had to be a set of eyes there. "Surrender, every exit is watched and you've nowhere to run." She uttered coldly like a demand, confident that he wouldn't be able to escape her now they're face to face. He sensed that she wasn't lying and the safeties of her firearm was off.

Others may have complied, not him though. He had the advantage, superior firepower, jedi training and his armor often called a beskar'gam by his people which was translated to _iron skin_ in Mando'a; was the most durable body armor in his own galaxy and was even resistant to lightsabers. "I'll graciously decline your invitation." Jarik responded curtly, his voice disorted by software in his helmet. He noticed that the safety on their firearms were off and that she was ready to shoot to kill if necessary. "I'm well authorized to kill you should you fail to cooperate." She declared coldly but he could sense her doubt. She was realizing he was something else and that his armor could withstand her bullets. "Whom are you to judge me?" He responded with feigned arrogance although with genuine curiousity about his pursuers. "SHIELD." There was his answer, straight from the mouth of this assassin. Maybe she believed that he could be persuaded. "That's an abbervation deliberately made to spell SHIELD which implies that you are protectors." Jarik quickly deduced, remembering the time when the Jedi Order were guardians of peace and justice in the old republic.

Although this organization called SHIELD seems to be more covert and ambiguous than the Jedi Order he grew up with. Their methods might not be straightforward. That is when realization dawned upon him, she wasn't trying to persuaded him. She was stalling for her back-up. A man was sneaking up behind him with an arrow notched upon the string. He could deal with them but he'd prefer without harming them. He didn't want to risk exposing himself as a Jedi thus the Mind Trick wasn't even an option. "This can go two ways, either you and your partner let me go or we'll have to settle this in an uncivilized manner.

His response gave her pause, obviously he wasn't like anything she expected to be. "Or you can come with us and explain where you got your training and gear." The man spoke up, his arrow notched on the string with the arm ready to pull and let loose. There's various of options for him to get out of this situation yet it ws risky since he didn't know full extent of their capabilities. "Depends on what you want." He stated, buying more time to consider his options. There was a compartment in his left gauntlet for smoke pellets which could come in handy to make a quick escape. However as previously stated, he didn't know the extent of their capabilities. The mounted flamethrower on his right gauntlet would certainly catch them off guard but it could severely injure them. It was close quarters; why not use the vibro wrist blades and combine it with the grappling line in his right gauntlet to incapacitate them or draw his father's Beskad which was resting in a scabbard on his back which was secured tightly to the tactical harness around his torso. He keeps a DL-44 Heavy Blaster Pistols in magnetically secured holster by his right thigh as a back-up firearm.

"You're an unknown and the gear you use obviously rivals the Military. SHIELD doesn't like unknowns." He could sympathize, the intelligence agencies around the world took the failure that was Nine-Eleven to heart. Like he and the surviving Jedi did with the Fall of the Republic and Order Sixty-Six. However, could he submit himself to the authorities? It could've far reaching consequence they might not be ready for. Yet there was something about this woman before him which felt different but couldn't directly put a finger on. "I have conditions." He voiced, calm and firmly resolute.

"Name them." The woman responded coldly to Jarik whom lowered the EE-3 Carbine Rifle, the gun sling letting it hang within reach. "I wish to remain anonymous and keep all of my equipment." His gaze was set upon the woman whom answered flatly in return. "Done."

Jarik had to admit that she was a good liar and could've fooled him if he wasn't able to sense her deceit. He didn't want to rise any suspicion and decided to play along. "Glad that we could reach an accord." She nodded curtly as she lowered her guns "Black Widow." She introduced herself with "Hawkeye" promptly followed on the introductions. Obviously codenames, what else could he expect of a covert intelligence agency such as SHIELD. "What can we call you then?" Hawkeye asked curtly and coldly professional.

"The locals call me the Shadow Warrior; I guess that it could go as my alias." Jarik responded passively in return. In all honestly, he didn't mind in the slightest mostly due to his mandalorian roots but he was at heart, a Jedi Knight.

 **A/N:** _Here we go, the prologue of the revised edition of "Resurgence of a Jedi" or the 2.0 version of it. As you might tell, this will set up the story in a different manner which I'm excited about. I hope to keep the narrative comprehendable and true to the characters._

 _Also, feel free to provide any constructive criticism which may or may not impact this story. I'd lastly want to thank all of you for taking your time to read this and especially those whom provided constructive feedback in the original version of the story._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _efhb1994_


	2. Kih'parjai

Natasha Romanoff kept her gaze upon the Shadow Warrior, analyzing and determining his abilities. She had anticipated a firefight to have broken out by now but the Shadow Warrior had kept his cool throughout their encounter. Overall, he wasn't like she had expected him to be. He had spared the drug dealers instead of outright killing them like she would've done if they had crossed paths on a mission. She had determined that his armor certainly was adding to his height and it goes without saying that it affects his weight aswell. However what puzzled her was the equipment and armaments which he wore. The material for the body armor wasn't anything which she recognized and the primary firearm in the gun sling and the one resting in a holster by his hip didn't look familiar at all either. The tactical harness and strappings sure makes him looked like a rugged soldier from the future if she was to make any comparisons.

Clint carried his composite bow in his left hand, not really losening his grip around it while the mechanical quiver hang on his back. People might raise some eyebrows at his weapon of choice but she rather have Clint watching her back instead of an entire STRIKE team. "We ought to move. The authorities will be arriving any minute." He said to her, she nodded curtly in understanding. They weren't supposed to be here and by being caught, they risk exposure something SHIELD doesn't want. moved out the back and left the house and was several blocks away before they heard the sirens. It just gave her more time to examine the Shadow Warrior and she did notice what looked like a symbol on each shoulder. It reminded her heavily of patches the military wore on their shoulders except more otherworldly. It was a skull with downturned horns that curved inwards towards the jaw, it looked like it had slanted eye sockets and mouthful of long teeth. "So, what does that weird skull represent?" Clint asked and at first, Natasha thought the Shadow Warrior wouldn't respond but he did. "It's a symbol of my people; the Mandalorians."

The SHIELD agents couldn't help but get curious, what are mandalorians and why hadn't they heard anything about them before? "We're a culture whom lives in adherence to the Resol'nare." He continued to elaborate before speaking a language unlike anything she previously had ever could've imagined. "Ba'jur, Beskar'gam, Aliit, Ara'nov, Mando'a, Mand'alor. These are the Resol'nare. The core of what it means to be Mandalorian."

Okey, so that answered some questions but it only gave room for even more questions to emerge. Their language for instance wasn't anything like she could imagine but it sounded curt and to the point. "Where did you come from?"

"Far away from here." The answer made her frown. She was tempted to right now try to subdue him but maybe that's what he wants? Besides, what if there are more of his people around somewhere hiding and biding their time. If they tried to subdue him; wouldn't it agitate the others. She had to admit that the Shadow Warrior was smart, gave enough answers to give them pause but not enough for them to nail anything down. "The parking lot is just around the corner." She said as a matter of fact. "We'll drive to our safehouse at the outskirts of the city."

"That won't be necessary." The Shadow Warrior suddenly said as he stopped just when they were close to the parking lot where their white and tarnished SUV stood waiting. "Just give me the co-ordinates; time and a place. I'll be there for the meeting."

"Or you'll disappear from our radar." Clint said curtly, obviously not liking this idea. "Your mistrust is understandable but imagine if you were in my position. Would you agree to unconditionally follow two person with a claim of authority?" His response stunned them, he did have a valid point. They hadn't actually given him any kind of verification of whom they worked for. All they had expected was his compliance to their authority and take their word for it. "I'm Natasha Romanoff and that's Clint Barton." She said as per usual in her matter-of-fact tone. They couldn't risk him getting away thus persuasion is required and what was more persuading than the truth. "We're exposed out here. We'll talk once we're at a secure location." With that she turned around and started to move promptlya cross the parking lot and navigate all the various cars to reach the SUV.

There was no time for contemplation with what happened next. She had the wind knocked out of her when the SUV suddenly exploded and sent her rolling across the ground. There was the sound of gunfire and shouting. The first moments was the most disorientating but she soon realized that they had walked into an ambush.

…

His precognition had warned him that there was trouble ahead but he had only seconds before the SUV exploded and Black Widow was knocked to the ground by the kinetic force. He heard the sound of automatic slugthrowers. His EE-3 Carbine Rifle was in his hand as he took rapid aim and returned fire with a three-round bursts of intense plasma energy while dashing to provide cover for the Black Widow. He felt the impact of the slugs against his beskar'gam as he shielded the agent; literally taking bullets for her. "Move!" He bellowed to the redhead as all the gunfire was now focused upon him. The Black Widow used that to her advantage and managed to promptly relocated to return fire upon the enemy with her pistols.

He intentionally continued to draw their gunfire by moving forwards. The danger possed by the slugthrowers against his beskar'gam was minimal at best. He didn't know whom the assailants were but he was certain that they would come to regret picking a fight with a mandalorian. He made a quick tactical assesment; there was atleast a dozen of the assailants and all armed with slugthrowers; AK-47 he believed they were called. Their positioning was evenly spread to cut them off from escaping. However, it was sloppily executed as already he could spot Hawkeye having dealt with the assailant coming up from behind while Black Widow was in the process of flanking another group. However, unlike him she was vulnerable to the slugs and thus he had to draw the gunfire away from her which wasn't that hard to begin with as he had the only firearm which fired intense plamsa energy amongst all the slugthrowers. Each burst eliminated a hostile and the accuracy of each shot was as good as it could be considering the circumstances. Some of the assailants started to notice that their slugs didn't have any effect on him started to route while the more determined held their ground.

With the assailants dwindling number; Jarik moved forth and quickly slided across the topside of a car as he fired upon another assailant. The plasma having seared through his flesh and burned his insides. Well in range for some close quarters combat; he dropped the EE-3 Carbine Rifle and let it hang against his chestplate. Jarik was well-versed in close quarters combat. Jarik augmented himself through his connection to the Force, enhaning his strength, speed and agility while using a more physical application of Ataru; the fourth form of lightsaber combat.

Normally, it was more suitable to fight a single opponent and not multiple hostiles then again none of them had blasters. He made short work of the remaining assailants with his elaborate moves. Soon enough, the firefight was over as the last gunshots could be heard echoing in the now devestated parking lot. He heard the footsteps and turned to face the two SHIELD agents whom looked at him with disbelief. They had seen him perform feats beyond the natural capabilities of a human being. "We should relocate, as you said. We're exposed out here." Jarik said stoicly. Black Widow nodded curtly in agreement. "Let's go."

…

After having stolen a car, they had quickly made their way to the safehouse after making sure they weren't tailed. It was the basement of a building in the outskirts of the city. It was more like of a shelter than anything with conserved food which could last for years. Black Widow was in the other room making her report to the her boss while Hawkeye kept a watch on the perimeter. This gave Jarik a moment to contemplate and he didn't let it go to waste as he sat down with his knees facing the floor and his back straight. Hands on his knees as he just breathed. His nostrils flared up and widen as he inhaled the oxygen. Calm and composed as he held his breath. All the while considering and weighing heavily on the mantra.

 _There is no emotion, there is peace._

He exhaled as he found the peace within, he felt the force all around him even though he was among the last of his order since the Rise of the Empire. The galactic bastion of democracy had become the bastion of oppression and tyranny. Jarik had taken his time to contemplate his life. His father was a Mandalorian of Clan Ordo while his mother was a member of the Shan Family which has been known to be descendants of Revan and Bastila Shan. He knew little of his parents lives together but he was born as Jarik Ordo but was disavowed by Clan Ordo once his mother secretly sent him to the Jedi Temple to be trained as a Jedi and became known as Jarik Shan. He advanced rather quickly in the group classes and eventually was taken on as a Padawan by the esteemed Miraluka Jedi Master Xoverth whom was better known as the Barsen'thor – Warden of the Jedi Order.

 _There is no ignorance, there is knowledge._

He was an adolescent when the Clone Wars began – Master Xoveth became a General in the Grand Army of the Republic like so many other Jedi.

Master Xoverth shared Master Rahm Kota's opinion regarding the Clones although for a different reason. He openly condemned the Republic to have the backbone of its military consisted of living beings bred to serve like slaves.

Jarik easily adopted the ethical views of his master and was indignate that the bastion of galactic democracy actually condoned what was at its core – a slave army.  
 _  
There is no passion, there is serenity.  
_  
It was during the Clone Wars which while serving with Master Xoveth that he completed his Jedi Trials. He passed the Trials of Skill and Courage when he faced Quinlan Vos in lightsaber combat on the field of battle.

However, his father had joined the Mandalorian Protectors under Spar and was fighting with the separatists. When Father and son meets one another on the battlefield, they had no choice but to fight one another. He passed the trial of the flesh by defeating his father in combat and endured the emotionally trauma which followed. He entered a deep meditation with his trial of the spirit, facing his inner darkness which was represented by no other than Darth Revan – not a confrontation that he would ever forget. Lastly, his trial of insight involved him solving the High Riddles of Dwartii which while a challenge wasn't impossible to solve.

 _There is no chaos, there is harmony._

He had officially become a Jedi Knight shortly before the end of the Clone Wars. Master Xoveth took his leave from the Jedi Order after the Trial of Ashoka Tano and followed the lost twenty in denouncing the Jedi Order. Jarik had been dismayed by his master's decision but carried on with his Jedi duties. It came as a surprise when the Jedi High Council decided to award him with the venerable honor of dubbing him Barsen'thor. It was later that it dawned upon him that he was only awarded with the honors to negate the doubt in the Jedi Order following the departure of one of the Order's most revered Jedi Masters.

He was given more diplomatic assignments to systems affected the war to settle disputes and restore the people's faith in the Jedi Order. He was on Ord Mantell during the Battle of Coruscant. It was on his return to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant which he was immediately dispatched to the Voss System in the Tion Cluster. The Voss had managed to stay out of the Clone Wars despite the efforts of both the Republic and the Seperatists. To be personally invited to the Tower of Prophecy by the Voss mystics was not only a great honor – but also an opportunity which the Republic could pass up.

That was what ultimately saved his life when Contingency Order Sixty-Six was executed and the Jedi all over the galaxy was killed by the clones under their command. The Voss Mystics had on his arrival to the the Temple of Prophecy warned him of what was to come. When the Galactic Empire had come for him on Voss – he was long gone.

 _There is no death, there is the force._

Clan Ordo while they had once disavowed him recognized his worth during the Clone Wars and accepted him back into their ranks and hid him from the Galactic Empire. He was taught what was expected of him and soon enough adopted a new persona and embrace his mandalorian heritage to aid him in continuing evading the Great Jedi Purge until he was stuck on this backwater planet in another galaxy. He sensed movement and opened his eyes, spotting Agent Romanoff in the doorway looking at him.

"Director Fury wants to speak with you." She said with her usual pragmatic demeanor but there was a hint of gratitude in her voice. He gave it no further thought as he nodded curtly as he rose to his feet in a diligent manner and entered the next room. The room had a dark interior which was dimly lit and the only thing there was a mundane table and a chair. On the table was a laptop whose screen displayed a man whom Jarik at first thought to be Mace Windu, a Korrun Jedi Master of Legendary status of the Order and the creator of Vaapad, the seventh form of lightsaber combat. However, Jarik noticed that he looked a bit older and more weathered than Mace Windu with an eyepatch covering the left eye. "Please, have a seat." He spoke with the same stern tone which the Korrun Jedi Master once did but colder. Once he sat down, it took a brief moment before Director Fury finally spoke again. "Agent Romanoff said that you saved her life in that firefight earlier today. A claim which was verified by a security camera in the parking lot." The uncany resemblance between Mace Windu and this Director Fury could hardly be an coincidence. Could it possibly be the will of the Force like the way his hyperdrive had malfunctioned and brought him here?

"While you've my gratitude; I can't help but be worried considering that your fighting style and weapons are **literally** out of this world." He said while giving him that scrutinizing stare which would've been intimidating hadn't Jarik already faced death in the eye. "Now I want you to consider what I have to say carefully as this can go two ways. One, you tell me everything I want to know and the footage disappears. Two, you don't tell me jack shit and this footage goes viral in the next twenty four hours." There was a brief pause as the Director allowed the message to sink in. Jarik had to admit that he was impressed by how Fury was blackmailing him. If the footage of the fight went viral then he would become a target to every agency and various militaries across the world. "You could talk now or consider your options and get back to me within twenty four hours time" Director Fury said sternly with a hint that he would come through with his threat. "So, how will it be?"

 **A/N:** _I hate having to leave it with a cliffhanger but I'm sure that you're just as eager as I am to get this story going. I hope that you're satisfied with how I've portrayed the characters so far and if not; please write a review and explain why._

 _I'm grateful for the positive reception the story has received so far and I'd like to answer a very specific inquiry made by T-Rex-1000; HK-47 will indeed be featured in this story._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _efhb1994_


	3. Internet Mayham

Jarik took Fury's advice to heart. There would be consequences despite which option he took. He had been given leave for twenty four hours to consider and he used them well to contemplate what Fury had said. _"While you've my gratitude; I can't help but be worried considering that your fighting style and weapons are_ _ **literally**_ _out of this world."_ The mere implication that there have been other offworlders didn't intrigue him as much as it intimidating him; if there are other offworlders then where are they? Are they hiding like him?

Once Hawkeye came and Black Widow took the night shift. He felt the archer's gaze upon him. His mistrust of him was obvious ut it wasn't as solid as it had been at first back in Abidjan. He could tell Fury what he wanted to know, from a specific point of view which didn't reveal him as a Jedi. However there was no guarantee that he'll be left alone to his endevours. No, if they know that he's an offworlder; they would never leave him alone because people fear what they don't understand. However, none of them knew what he looked like underneath the armor which could be turned into an advantage. His slicing skills has not dimished over the years and has allowed him to create an alias for himself during his years of hiding from the Empire. Darth Sidious managed hide in plain sight of the Jedi. Maybe he could hide in plain sight aswell?

"You could've run away you know." The Archer suddenly spoke, having interrupted his thought process. "Instead you chose to save her life." He sensed it, the emotions he felt for her. It wasn't love, not in the context some would assumed. No, they were what mandalorians would've called _vode_ which implied acceptance of one another as family except they weren't actually siblings.

"To abandon allies in battle – even allies of circumstance and necessity would be a disgraceful." Jarik responded, assuming the persona of a mandalorian once again. He still sensed the Archer's unease and mistrust like if he couldn't take his word for it. Jarik turned to face the Archer and like Natasha did; he looked straight through the visor where his eyes were. "I didn't run away because honour demanded me to fight."

Hawkeye perked an eyebrow. "Really – Well, I'm not buying that." He spoke, not smugly but determined that he had figured something out. "Despite your advanced technology and equipment. You went great lengths to only subdue hostiles instead of outright eliminating them." It's fortunate that he had his helmet in place otherwise Hawkeye would've seen his surprised expression. He was impressed by Hawkeye's perceptive analysis despite the lack of information they had on him.

"You're right." Jarik admitted curtly and to the point. "Life is precious and ought to be preserved. I fight to free the children of Africa from abuse and indoctrination." He noticed the guilt which started to swell up in Hawkeye although it was supressed by the professional exterior it was there.

"Be that as it may. You'll eventually draw more attention than just SHIELD's." He had a good point. Jarik evaluated what Hawkeye had just said and there were merit to his worlds. The Jedi couldn't entirely abolish slavery despite the laws in place when the old republic was around. Could he alone make such a diffirence?

"What would you have me do?"

"You tell Fury what he wants to know and then I'm sure that you and him can come to an arrangement." The answer was genuine. Hawkeye wasn't trying to manipulate him but rather appeal to his good nature.

"You don't understand." Jarik said with a sigh, for the first time letting himself through his mandalorian persona. "By sharing everything I know to anyone on this Earth could have dire consequences." He saw the frown forming on Hawkeye's face but he didn't say anything which allowed Jarik to continue to speak but this time with more diligance. "I'll speak to Director Fury but not through a screen. I want to look him into the eye and see his worth before I share anything."

There was a moment of absolute silence as Hawkeye proceeded to contemplate what Jarik had just said. "Why are you telling me that you won't share everything with Fury?"

"Because you think that I'm not a threat." Jarik responde curtly to Hawkeye whom he sensed was puzzled over this revealation. "I knew that Black Widow was lying about agreeing with meeting my terms."

"But you agreed anyway?" Hawkeye inquired, obviously puzzled over how Jarik had so easily read them like if they were open books.

"I would only escalate it to a more hostile situation and I rather take my chances with diplomacy." ' _Unlike other mandalorians'_ Jarik added mentally. "If negotiations fail however then don't expect me to submit to your Director's whim."

Hawkeye seemed more puzzled by his statement and nodded curtly in response. "In that case, I hope negotiations won't fail." with those words Hawkeye turned about as if to indicate this conversation is over. Jarik was content enough to let the Archer be as he returned to his contemplations.

 **…**

"Diagnostic: HK-47 activated. Running checks through primary systems." A droid monotonely spoke through his vocabulator yet there was a hint of malevolence in it. The droid refered as HK-47 stood precisely at 5'11" in height with its components protected by a proper rusty red colored chassis; sharing many physical similarities with a protocol droid except the menacing orange photoreceptors. "Assessment: No damage sustained. Assassin Protocols on stand-by."

HK-47 wasn't speaking to someone in particular. It was just a habit he developed to speak once activated. He was an assassin droid of unrivaled sophistication; the stuff of legend like his creator – Revan. He processed his memory banks; fortunately this time around there had been no memory loss and he still had all of his assassination protocols.

Functionally speaking, he had a weapon for every situation but primarily it was the heavily modified disruptor rifle magnetically locked to the back of his chasis. It had improved optics, reduced recoils and extended range along with several opens ports for even more modular upgrades. There was the matter of all the weapons he was outfited with; the wrist-mounted Carbonite Projector and flamethrower along with the concealed vibro-knives in his forearms and the blaster pistols locked magnetically to his thighs. There was also the matter of various explosive types he's armed with which is intimidating in its own right.

"Statement: 1 321 456 Standard Days since Master's Last Directive." HK-47 mused to himself as his photorecptors scanned the enviroment; the interior of the Ebon Hawk had seen better days. He had repaired and maintained himself while waiting faithfully as his master instructed and entered in hybridnation mode which he woke from on regular intervals to make an assesment of his primary systems.

Revan was his favorite master but his last directive was the worst. Why he had to travel and wait on some backwater world was beyond him and quite frankly a dull arrangement. However there was something different this time as he went to check over any developments like he so often did. How curious, the civilization has actually made some progress; granted they still had a way to go before becoming a interstellar civilization.

There were satellite's in orbit and the Ebon Hawk's communication array was still functional. HK-47 established a connection with one of the satellites once he modified the communications array. The software didn't stand a chance against his slicing capabilities and he promptly proceeded to cover his tracks by the use of a VPN before proceeding to access something called the Internet; his primary access through something called NEXUS in something called Norway. The process continued to a point where any attempts by the primitive meatbags and their software to track him down would be met with failure. He had remote access to a satellite and from there was capable of gathering information about this primitive meatbag civilization.

"Observation: These meatbags are imbeciles. Facebook. Twitter. Youtube." He mused, mocking them for no particular reason. He was processing a lot of new information in a short timespan and he felt compelled to use his vocabulator for some reason. He then stumbled upon a **major** collection of sites where meatbags of both genders conducting pheromone-driven buisness with one another while being undressed and that was just a mild example. These pictures and videos of meatbags with various genders and pigmentations. There are also drawings of meatbags with fur having pheromone-driven buisness with other meatbags with fur! "Statement: How revolting! This so-called _porn_ needs be terminated." With those words; he uploaded customized a malware with a specific purpose; terminate any pornographic content it comes across. Reluctantly HK-47 admits such a feat would've been more impressive back in his home galaxy considering the holonet would've been quite the opposition. Nevertheless, these primitive meatbags' civilization got nothing which could counter his slicing skills. The Malware was upploaded to the Internet through the NEXUS and HK-47 observed as his processors hummed with delight over how each pornsite shut down and each server was fried beyond repair.

Then the internet erupted as new threads suddenly was added to forums all over the world. Meatbags was raging out at the surrounding community over the absence of digital pornographic content. "Statement: I do believe this internet needs some further termination. This will be fun."

Intelligence agencies all over the world was avidly trying to find the source of whomever had taken down the pornographic content on the internet but found nothing. Meanwhile the entire porn industry collapsed as their means of distribution over the internet was terminated each time they try to start a new website for pornography.

HK-47 would forever more be known by the hacking community as the _Digital Scourge_. A notion which might be considered flattering but the message in itself was to his liking. He did need a hobby afterall and so far he was content with it.

 **…**

While Nick Fury was in charge of one of the world's greatest security network; he still had to answer to someone. The World Security Council's purpose was oversight of SHIELD and thus had a say in what SHIELD was doing. They was a pain in the ass but they kept him alert and on his toes.

"You're sure that this Shadow Warrior is an alien?" asked Councilman Gideon Malick with his stern demeanor. He appeared shrouded in shadows on a seperate screen like every other councilman.

"He calls himself a mandalorian and our intelligence suggests that he is literally out of this world. So yes, an alien would be an appropiate assessment." Fury replied as diligantly as he could stomach.

"Then maybe a more hostile approach would be appropiate to detain him." Gideon continued to speak with the same stern and passive demeanor of his, a skewered politician indeed.

"Have you seen the footage? The AK-47 which fired at him didn't even make a dent at his armor." He replied to the councilman whom he felt was scolding his approach. "The way he fought indicates that he's highly trained and I've no doubt that he could've run away from that firefight but didn't."

"Are you implying that he can be trusted?" This time it was Councilman Yen whom represented the People's Republic of China on the world security council.

"I imply that he deserves the benefit of the doubt until further notice." Fury answered in return, slightly grateful that Yen intervened in the conversation. Mostly due that Yen sounded more diplomatic than Malick did. "There's another matter which came up recently. The sudden sabotage on all websites with indecent content."

He took in the reactions of the council. They were somewhat taken back by the topic but not right out surprised considering the media shitstorm surrounding it at the moment. Naturally they didn't care about the contents of the porn sites themselves; rather the capability to take down **all** the pornsites simultaniously without leaving a trace. No one needed to state the obvious here that this could prove quite a security risk if the same capabilities was used against SHIELD. "Our intelligence are investigating the matter as we speak. I'm however doubtful as whomever behind this covered their tracks very well."

"So we now have an alien and a digital menace?" said Councilman Singh whom represented the Republic of India on the World Security Council. "That can hardly be a coincidence." Nick Fury couldn't help but agree with the Councilman but Black Widow and Hawkeye have confirmed that the Shadow Warrior was never near a computer thus the probability of it being him was minimal.

"So far there's been no indication of a link between the two. I'm sure that I'll find out once I meet him face to face." Nick Fury responded to the councilman whom nodded in acknowledgement.

"Very well, be sure to keep up us informed on any developments." With those words, the world security council meeting with Nick Fury was over.

 **...**

 **A/N:** _This chapter took longer to write than I'd like. However real life can sure be a bitch sometimes and I'd hope to atleast have weekly updates but sadly that's not the reality. HK-47 is back though and he just started his mayham streak by collapsing the porn industry. Admit it, he would find it revolting especially considering if he's connecting to the internet where there's loads of pornography to begin with. There's also been a few edits to previous chapters which doesn't really change the story drastically._

 _As always, all your feedback especially constructive criticism is more than welcome!_

 _Yours sincerely,  
efhb1994_


	4. Foreboding Revanchist

Throughout the universe there's been theories and hypothises as how life came to be. However few realize it all was coming down to one overlooked factor. The Force, a mysterious energy field which connected everything together. Specifically the Living Force represents the energies of all living things which constantly feeds the cosmic force that binds everything together. Although only a fraction of living beings could actually sense and use the Force.

Once there were unity between the force sensitives until there was a schism between the Light Side and Dark Side of the Force. Historians have disputed if the Schism caused the foundation of the Jedi and the Sith from a divided Je'daii Order or if the Sith was a splinter group of the Jedi Order. Either way, what historians do agree on is that war followed between the two factions. A war which never truly ended and transcended to a war of Light and Darkness.

However, there was once a Jedi whose connection to the Force was unrivaled. Whom was mastering both the Light Side and the Dark Side and use them simultaniously. The incorporeal form of a well-built man dressed in an armored robe whose facial features was concealed by a mask underneath a cowl. The very same mask which served both as his mark upon history and anchor to whom he once was. Revan despite the radiating appearance of a force Spirit; he remained inimidating. He was known as the Revanchist for leading the Jedi and the Republic during the Mandalorian War and was referred to Revan the Butcher by the Mandalorians. Darth Revan to the Sith and the Prodigal Knight to the Jedi Order.

Names which no longer mattered, atleast to him whom now is one with the Force yet maintained his identity beyond his death. He watched how the Jedi Order despite everything became more stagnated and conservative. There was nothing which connected them to the Galaxy which they were supposed to protect; a factor which made them blind to the Sith Lord hiding in plain sight. The formation of the Galactic Empire was unavoidable along with the fall of the Jedi Order. It was forcing the Jedi to adapt to survive and eventually rebuild. A Jedi Order which was more connected to the galaxy they were protecting and not stand tall and mighty upon pedestals.

However the desirable future of a new jedi order being born under the teachings of Luke Skywalker started to become more obscure and intangible. There were dark forces other than the Sith at work which was meddling with affairs in the galaxy which he in life knew as home.

He sensed his descendant on Earth and saw that the clone wars haunted him. While though Revan was impressed that Jarik was capable of constantly shrouding his presence through the Force. The emotions though wasn't so easily shrouded; especially the guilt that he was amongst the last of the surviving Jedi. Revan himself knew that guilt as he had originally fought in the Mandalorian War to protect others but over time he fell to darkness and became cold and calculating until he eventually fell to the Dark Side.

Although the potent mind wiping technique of the Jedi High Council had washed it all away allowing his original disposition to emerge once more which allowed him to atone for his atrocities against the Old Republic as Sith Lord.

HK-47 as anticipated started to cause mayham throughout the internet on Earth. The plan was already in motion and soon it would all come together.

"Do you really want him to go throught with this? He's the last of your descendants afterall." Mused an elderly yet familiar voice whom Revan recognized as easy he would recognize himself in a mirror. Jolee Bindo was in life when they first met an old bald man; he still was but now like him a force spirit. He had been one of the few allies whom from the very beginning knew whom he was and had steadily influenced his understanding of the Force which in the end had made him more powerful than when he had been a Sith Lord. Something which his old friend and apprentice Malak had remarked upon their final duel on the Star Forge

"Yes." He responded to the slightly amused self-exiled jedi. "You sense it too afterall. The Force is strong with him. He has untapped potential."

"Sure, he has potential but are you sure he's ready for this?" Jolee inquired, not scolding him as he had told Revan that a life without risks was boring. Nevertheless, Jarik was his **only** living descendant but there's no other viable option.

"He will be. He must." Revan responded resolutely to his old mentor. "His journey has only begun like mine once did."

"Yes but he's not you Revan." Jolee retorted, obviously seeking to challenge his reasoning. Not out of disapproval or spite but to make sure that he really was committed to this and if there really was no other option worth considering. A sentiment he appreciated in the old man.

"While that's true. I'm confident in his abilities." The answer seemed to satisfy Jolee whom gave him a knowing smirk.

"Is that why HK-47 is on Earth?" Jolee voiced but the sound of it was more of a statement rather than a inquiry. "To kick ass when he gets kranky?" Even as a spirit, Jolee didn't lose his sense of humor.

"If necessary, yes." Revan humored Jolee whom chuckled deeply. "The Ebon Hawk is hidden underneath the sand with things of my past."

"I know, I know. The droid got your _relics_ too no doubt. The mask and lightsaber. You know, the purple one." Jolee commented in his usual bantering manner. "Funny that our stuff are considered relics nowadays. It sure makes me feel old."

"After we saved the Republic; you left known space and found Asgard." The sentence seemed to make Jolee raised his eyebrows as if to ask, so what? "You were the first outsider to actually live there and fought alongside the Asgardians during a period of strife and eventual stability."

"I get your point, I couldn't get away from responsibility and doing the right thing." Jolee admitted, although slightly reluctant. "But as I once told back during the Jedi Civil War. No war is more important than any other." Revan knew what Jolee expected next but instead he remained silence. Something which unnerved Jolee considering that once upon a time Revan would've indulged in a conversation and talk about the past. However the silence was foreboding like if the coming war actually was more important than any war they had ever fought.

 **…**

 **22** **nd** **November 2010  
Outskirts of Abidjan, Ivory Coast**

The dawn was slowly approaching and Jarik sat down in the center of what could for the lack of a better term be called a living room; meditating. Jedi had often found clarity in meditation and it was no different for him. It felt like he sat on the top of a mountain with a mild summer breeze touching his cheeks and a warmth which made all his worries subside atleast for the time being. He could feel the shallow breaths of Clint whom was sleeping like a rock along with the ants carrying leftovers from the kitchen floor.

"If you hoped to catch me off-guard. That's not going to happen." Jarik spoke almost casually and unwavering from his medative state. He had sensed the Black Widow's movement; she had just returned from whatever business she was conducting. Nevertheless, she had entered gracefully like a shadow and without any sound. Yet he knew she was there which puzzled her somewhat. He sensed her surfacing thoughts to be one of confusion but it quickly changed with her question.

"Have you even slept?" The tone hadn't really changed. Once upon a time he might've found the inquiry amusing but he has a hard time sleeping since Order Sixty-Six. He felt guilty of being one of the survivors yet rationally couldn't have any influence of whom of the Jedi would live or die. Fortunately, a Jedi didn't necessarily have to sleep. They could sustain themselves through the Force and replace sleep altogether through meditation. The same kind of meditation which allowed him to calm down and maintain control of his emotion.

"I just got up early." He lied, quite easily aswell but Natasha wasn't convinced. For whatever reason, she wasn't calling him out to be lying. Could it be that she had newfound respect for his privacy or that she's saving the questions for later when they would probably be trying to take him in.

"I'm going to wake Clint up." She responded curtly before she left the so-called living room. Jarik pursed his lips together into a thin line as he resumed with his meditation. He sensed the sudden spike of activity of Natasha waking Clint up and the discovery of ants in the kitchen but paid no heed as something else got his attention. It felt like a wild gale in the Force bound for nowhere whirling around near him. A presence which was both powerful and obscured from him. Like something was deliberately letting him know there was something there yet managed to hide right infront of him. Then he heard it…

 _You walk a path with the edge of a danger. One wrong step and everything falls apart._

It was a voice with a jaded edge of experience but with an unwavering determination. He felt a shiver running alongside his spine while he tried to remain composed and balance despite the incorporeal presence.

 _Trust in the Force, young one. It shall not steer you wrong._

He snapped his eyes open and just like that; it was gone. What was that? He sure hadn't experience something potent like that which could only be compared to his Jedi Knight Trials. He was pantering heavily and felt his heart pounding. It didn't take long to get it under control but was still startled. Something or Someone had reached out to him without leaving a trace or hint of what or whom he was. Nevertheless, the message indicated that there was danger in his future and that he should trust in the Force. It could hardly be a coincidence now when he's about to come face to face with SHIELD. He recited the entire message to himself; figuring that he would've to tread carefully with how he interacted with SHIELD then again, he was told that the Force wouldn't steer him wrong. Was the voice talking about the will of the force?

The message raised more questions than answers which required more contemplation. Then again, it hadn't saved the Jedi Order. He got back up to his feet, done with his meditation as he proceeded to draw his beskad hanging over his shoulder and started to practice some katas. He knew that both agents were watching from the kitchen door. They seemed content to not disturb him and rather observe his fighting style. No doubt planning how to defeat him in the future. "Enjoying the show?"

"I'm more curious as to why you weren't using that blade back at the parking lot." Natasha said quite bluntly. This had him stop the blade in midswing and stop the katas. He looked towards the agents whose curiousity knew no bounds. It's true he could have drawn the Beskad and shed their blood once he engaged them in close quarters combat. Who was he to judge whom was to live or die?

"They weren't a challenge." He replied bluntly; masking his true purpose behind sparing them through his mandalorian persona. He sheathed the blade in the scabbard, his gaze unwavering through his visor. "Anything else?"

"Yes, we're due for an extraction in a couple of hours. I suggest you get ready to move." She said curtly and to the point. He understood that there was no direct hurry considering that they don't have anything to pack anyway or specifically he didn't. It didn't take long for them to gather outside and back into the stolen SUV and started driving further into the wilderness.

 **…**

HK-47 was processing a lot of data. The various cultures of the backwater planet along with its languages became common knowledge to him. He must say that he do enjoy the online gaming a lot especially considering it allowed him to simulate killing people over and over again and mock them endlessly in multiplayer matches. People assumed he was somesort of bot, something which he took great offense at.

Wait, what was that. The sensors or photoreceptors wasn't showing anything but there was definitively something. His processors started to hum with anticipation as he left the console and started to check the ship room for room with his disruptor rifle at the ready. He found nothing which he found somewhat disappointing. However before he could go back to the console he saw something which by all rights should be impossible but there he was. Revan, his favorite master radiating with a dim incorporeal light. Then came the voice, the very same voice which once echoed this very central hub of the ship. "HK-47, it's time to proceed with my final mission for you."

 **A/N:** _Hello there! First things first, I greatly apologize for the delay. Secondly, I appreciate all the reviews coming my way. I noticed one review in particular that said that a jedi wouldn't give two fucks about the security video going viral. The way I see it and maybe because I'm Swedish; Jarik is a jedi in hiding which is trying to avoid a hostile confrontation whatsoever with the authorities. True he could give the militaries an asskicking but what purpose would that serve? It would only make him a target._

 _As always, all your feedback especially constructive criticism is more than welcome!_

 _Yours sincerely,  
efhb1994_


	5. All that is necessary

**22** **nd** **November 2010  
SHIELD Eastern Africa Headquarters**

With all the preliminary reports coming in regarding the Digital Scourge causing mayham across the internet. It completely rivaled anything on Earth in regards of digital warfare and now SHIELD was on high alert with a priority of finding that source. Nick Fury wasn't in one of their primary facilities outside America for that though. In fact, his very presence there made the personnel wary. His reputation mostly preceeded him and the only one whom seemingly didn't budge before him was sitting right across him in this dimly lit room. It was an interrogation room which suited his purpose of dealing with this Mandalorian. It was dimly lit with a table in the middle of it. Two chairs were placed on opposite sides so they could come talk to each other face to face.

It was also one of those interrogation rooms with a mirror which wasn't really a mirror but a one-way window into the actual interrogation room. With his experience in the CIA during the Cold War, Nick Fury knew better than to take the Mandalorian at face value. Infact he hoped for the best but was prepared for the worst.

In the event of this talk going south then Black Widow and Hawkeye would bust in and intervene; reinforced by several mobilized STRIKE teams. The facility itself had several security checkpoints set up just for this meeting. There was no room for marginal error here but the Shadow Warrior was adamant about not giving up his armaments or even showing his face. Nick could respect that although he didn't necessarily like the idea of having a potentially hostile with energy-based weaponry at large in his backyard. Strangely enough the Shadow Warrior wasn't being hostile, sure adamant and defensive but never with the intent of provoking. That and the fact that he fought alongside his agents while he could've made a run for it.

So far their talk has been a staring contest and it doesn't help that the Shadow Warrior refuses to remove his helmet and show his face. Apparently he've not removed his helmet even once according Agent Barton. The armor certainly added to his height and weight which certainly was impressive if he managed to wear it twenty-four seven like a second skin. "I take it that you've considered to go along with my offer?" The Director of SHIELD finally spoke curtly.

"You mean blackmail." The Shadow Warrior answered with the obvious adamant disposition which told Nick that he wasn't going to budge. He had anticipated as much, he certainly carried the grace of a warrior but a warrior of reason whom knew when to fight and when to talk.

"Call it what you will." Nick Fury retorted before following up with his argument while staringt at him coldly "But I sincerely doubt there would've been a difference if I was up mucking up in your backyard instead of you mucking about in mine." He hoped that he got his point across so they could start talking.

"I'll tell you nothing if you can't guarantee that my terms are met." The Shadow Warrior spoke with clear defiance.

"Your terms will be met aslong your answers are satisfying" The Director of SHIELD spoke with the same kind of determination as one might expect. It wasn't negotiable since if there are more of these mandalorians then he needed to know everything he could.

So far the mandalorian was difficult to read as he couldn't see his facial expression and his body language screamed control. "What would you like to know." The Shadow Warrior finally said.

"Who are you and where did you come from?" Nick Fury inquired as he leaned with his elbows against the table. Staring right at the visor which prevented him from making eye contact.

"I'm a Mandalorian and I was born in the Mandalore System of the Mandalore Sector in the Outer rim of a galaxy far far away."

Nick Fury pursed his lips together while his stare turned into an unamused glare. "Do you think this is a joke?"

"No, I'm mortally serious." The Mandalorian responded almost casually. "What else would you like to know?" As if Stark wasn't infuriating enough, the Shadow Warrior was intentionally trying to get on his nerves. Fury rose to his feet as he stared down at the mandalorian whom too rose from his seat. Both of them had reached for their firearms but no one was making the first move. Then the unexpected happened, he laughed. "You got guts, Director Fury. Not many would dare a standoff with a Mandalorian. I'm Avner of Clan Ordo."

The tension disapated just like that and both of them sat down again to resume their conversation. Fury was almost confused to what happened but strangely enough felt compelled to carry on with his inquiries. "How did you get here?"

"By accident, the hyperdrive of my ship malfunctioned and I ended up in your solar system. I decided to land in the least developed area of your planet and see if it could be repaired but its fried. I'm stuck here." Avner answered without hesitation; a lot more forthcoming now that he has shared a name.

"I see. What are Mandalorians?" Fury asked with a genuine curiousity. Ofcouse Agent Romanoff relayed what she have been told so far bu the prefers getting information first hand.

"As you've probably figured we are warriors. We know ourselves in our language as Mando'ade; Children of Mandalore. We live in adherence to Resol'nare; Six actions. The Central tenets of our way of life. We wear our armor, we speak our language, we defend ourself along with our family, we raise our children as mandalorians, we contribute to our clan's wellfare, and we rally to the cause when called upon by Mandalore." Avner answered diligently like if he firmly believed in them.

"Why are you not with your people?" Despite not being able to get a good read on him. This was a question which ought to give Fury some answers regarding the Shadow Warrior. The Mandalorians are obviously a warrior culture and put emphasis on family values yet he's here on his own.

"We're a scattered people whom offer our services to others as bounty hunters and mercenaries. How else do you expect a Mandalorian to make a living?" He had a point but still Nick had a feeling that he wasn't telling everything.

"What can you tell me about your weapons and armor?" Nick Fury wasn't expecting the Shadow Warrior to be willing to answer that. He was adamant of not relinquishing his armaments or any of his equipment whatsoever.

"My firearms are called blasters and build up intense bolts of plasma. Technically it's converting energy-rich gas to a glowing particle that could melt though its targets. This armor is an essential part of mandalorian culture. Beskar'gam which means iron skin in mando'a, the language of my people. It's made of beskar or more commonly referred to as mandalorian iron. It is very durable and versatile along resistant to energy-based weaponry even the majority of your armaments stands little chance to damage it." The Director of SHIELD remained sceptical. Why telling him this, was he trying to earn his trust only to exploit it later on? Last time he trusted someone, he lost an eye. "Your civilization is compared to mine in its infancy. You're in no condition to replice anything I got."

"What stops us from taking them from you?" Fury asked with a frown but nonetheless curious how Avner would respond.

"You're welcome to try. I'm a mandalorian and I will never surrender my weapons." Avner responded as if amused by the challenge. A reaction which made the Director to give his stern deathglare.

"Why should I trust anything you say. For all we know, you could be spinning a grand old yarn."

"Because I've done nothing to deserve your scrutiny. Yes, I'm not from around here and that's the reason why I didn't reach out to you. Like I said, your civilization is still in its infancy compared to mine. Furthermore, it's shattered into nations." The Shadow Warrior's tone was less adamant but more benevolent. Like if he actually believed what he said was true. "You have no reason to believe me but you wouldn't be talking to me if you actually believed that I was a threat."

Fury had to admit that his reasoning was sound. "You're right, I'm willing to give you the benefit of a doubt. Our world may not be perfect, it's flawed but it's still ours. We make do with what we got to the best of our abilities." The Director responded, maybe with time he would give them some more insight if coaxed.

"Don't play me for a fool. Your job is to prepare for the worst case scenario." It began as if he was going to throw accusations but it took a different turn. "You're in a position of command and authority because you want to protect people. The question is how far will you go?"

Nick Fury had to admit that the Shadow warrior certainly had a way with words. It would certainly made some to be at loss for words. Following a mirthless snicker the Director spoke again. "I have to admit, you do have a way with words. What would you do if I let you go?"

"On what conditions?" The Shadow Warrior responded, he most certainly wasn't thick. Maybe he could actually be considered. Well, there's only one way to find out.

"Let me tell you about something I'd like to call the Avengers Initiative." The Shadow Warrior wasn't saying anything but Fury knew that he had his attention. "You want to know how far I'll go? I'd be willing to let a team of remarkable individuals such as yourself to fight the battles which we never could."

"You fear there might be threats in the future where you're ill equipped to handle. Such as an extraterestial invasion." The Mandalorian said as if he understood where he was going with it. "You want me to be a part of this team."

"All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." Nick Fury said with a smirk; having just quoted Edmund Burke. "I think you might be a good fit. Naturally we'll have to make a thorough assessment before the initiative kicks off."

There was a brief pause while the Shadow Warrior conemplated this new information before answering. "Count me in."

 **…**

The Gatekeeper of Asgard named Heimdal has turned his gaze towards Midgard as of late. His blessed senses allowing him to see and hear nearly everything in the nine realms. He was often called the the Watcher of Worlds. Midgard had flourished but they were still in its infancy as a civilization. Yet there was a stranger from beyond. A mandalorian, like in those tales of Jolee Bindo told to him as a child. He had watched the mandalorian but never knew his name until he told it to the bald man with the eyepatch. Avren, the same length and letters but in different order; Revan. Had the day finally come, the arrival of Revan's last descendant?

The Allfather would know. Odin Borson, the King of Asgard stood tall even in his old age. He had a gaunt and apprehensive demeanor like cut from granite yet there was a stern fatherly kindness seldom seen. He wasn't alone though in the throne room; with him was his wife and sons along with a contingent of Einherjars. "Heimdall, what brings you from your post?" The Allfather asked with a booming voice.

"I believe that the last blood of Revan has come to Midgard." Once the words were spoken by Heimdall whom knelt before his king. The Allfather froze and gave him a stare which would make hardy men to quiver.

"You believe?" Frigga asked, she too knew the stories quite well.

"Yes, my queen. He's dressed as a Mandalorian and introduced himself as Avner of Clan Ordo." Heimdall answered while the Allfather contemplated what to do next and naturally the sons of Odin started to talk.

"You mean to tell me that the stories of Revan weren't just Jolee Bindo's talltales?" Thor asked with a perked brow of wonder.

"Ofcouse they are, brother dear." Loki subtely cided his oblivious brother before their father raised a hand in ommand their silence.

"Enough you two." The Allfather scolded before sharng a knowing look to his wife, Frigga. His attention shortly returned to Heimdall "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. However for now. I only wish of you to maintain watch."

"Father, if he's the last blood of Revan then he should be welcome within our halls with open arms." Thor interjected whereupon Loki merely frowned but said nothing.

"We don't know if he's the last blood of Revan. However given time, we'll know for sure."

"How can you tell, father?" The second son of Odin asked coyly whereupon Odin chuckled lightly at Loki's curiousity.

"Because only the blood of Revan would be accepted as master by revan's finest creation."

 **A/N:** _Hello there! The interrogation section of this chapter was difficult to write. Originally it was from Jarik's POV but I changed it to Nick Fury seeing as it would confirm that he's_ _ **not**_ _Mace Windu. Also, Avner is Jarik's alias and will be referred as both depending on whose POV it's written in. Also, the later section with Asgard is to answer a review regrading Asgardians knowledge about Revan, Jarik and the Jedi. Also, there's a good reason why there's no HK-47 in this chapter. Something which I'm excited about to share in the next chapter._

 _As always, all your feedback especially constructive criticism is more than welcome!_

 _Yours sincerely,  
efhb1994_


	6. The 0-8-4

Finally, his wait was over. HK-47 could finally proceed with his mission and conduct unadulturated violence upon insidious meatbags. At first when he saw the force manifestation of his old master. He was shocked, bewildered you might say. Yet there was a familiarity once his master spoke which triggered his immediate obediance. There was just one problem; he was a droid and thus no connection whatsoever with the Force. Yet he could see and hear a manifestation of it. It was something so trivial, should he address these force manifestations as ghostbags instead of meatbags since the idiom was no longer viable?

Nevertheless, he had a mission and he intended to see it through despite the ship being burried in some desolate desert. Power has been conserved for optimal performance and adjusted to convert the unbarable heat and humid conditions to power the vital systems. However the Ebon Hawk wouldn't be able to fly again anytime soon, probably never considering they've been here for thousands of years. So far the plan was to use the undamaged communication array to transmit a distress signal in a morse code for SOS. It would prompt to whatever meatbag authority to eventually investigate and hopefully dig him up. There was just an unknown factor – how does this backwater world of underdeveloped meatbags react to artifical intelligence? The Internet has provided some insight through works of fiction and entertainment but it was still inconclusive.

Regardless, the meatbags ought to be gullible enough to fall for the protocol droid act. It was just the matter of his armaments. His design was ofcouse infallible and thus could conceal a number of them with the exception of his disruptor rifle and blasters which is unfortunate. He was confident though that he could perform the plan to perfection. However should the meatbags just start shooting at him; then he would've an excuse to terminate them with extreme prejudice.

Hours went by until finally it happened. Meatbags had arrived on site and commenced with their search and eventually survey once they notices the spike of activity. So they start diggng which quite frankly took a while. Not that HK-47 gave a damn, he had waited for thousands of years. If there was anything he knew – it was patience. The thrill of the hunt which made his processors hum with anticipation. The cealling hatch opened and he could hear the voices along with the rush of fresh humid air fill the vacuum inside the ship. It was voices of disbelief. "Incredible. I think we've made the found of the century. Call the Colonel, he'd want to see this." said a voice, estimated to a male meatbag.

The meatbags was slowly and steady searching the ship. HK-47 had made the calculation had right after they rendevouz at the holo-termninal. There were several armored meatbags with slugthrowers along with an unarmored bald meatbag with glasses and a weird suit with an even more weirder thing around his neck. "Joyful Exclamation: At long last rescue!" The sound of his vocabulator caused the meatbags to raise their slugthrowers and flashlights right at him.

"Whom are you, identify yourself." the wierdly dressed meatbag in glasses demanded, obviously playing by the book as expected from someone making first contact with a droid. All the same, it wasn't a direct hostile reaction.

"Answer: I'm HK-47. A protocol droid programmed for communication, mediation and to – put an end to hostilites." HK-47 responded cooly as the flashlights lit his rusty-clad chasis and his response seemingly put the lead meatbag at ease but the tension was still there from the other meatbags. "Addendum: It would be my pleasure to answer any question you may have."

"You're a robot?" One of the armored meatbags inquired, causing the unarmored to cast a glare whereupon HK-47 tilted his head slightly to firmly set his gaze upon him with his photoreceptors.

"Query: What's a robot?" The meatbags shared a look between each other, quite apprehensive if HK-47's estimation was accurate.

"Well, you are."

"Correction: I'm a Droid. D-R-O-I-D." HK-47 voiced as he pronounced the letter independently. Why couldn't these meatbags get it into their head that he was a droid and not one of their lousy excuses of a droids.

"Nevermind that, what is this vessel?" The unarmored meatbag asked – the way the armored meatbag composed himself underneath the glare told him enough. The unarmored meatbag was in charge.

"Answer: This is a dynamic-class freighter – registration number 34-P7JK. Also known as the Ebon Hawk." HK-47 patiently answered. "Explanation: Ever since we crashed here some thirty seven centuries ago. My self-perservation protocol kept her in good condition to be used as shelter."

Unfortunately sating their curiousity seem to make them less willing to engage in hostile activity. Nevertheless, he had to make an assessment and proceed with his mission whatever the cost. They seemed puzzled by what he told them yet they maintained the discipline expected from meatbags. "Where did you come from and why are you here?"

"Answer: Ah, as you probably might have observed. We crashed." He explained while wishfully imagining ripping the lead meatbags' head off. "Addendum: I was created estimatedly four millenia ago by my master Revan in a neighbouring galaxy. Although I don't know which one." He was being truthful. He doesn't know where he and the Ebon Hawk is relatively to his home galaxy. However he would find out eventually with his resourcefullness and patience.

"Who is Revan?" Asked one of the armored meatbags. Promplty earning a glare from their leader.

"Boastful Answer: Revan was my creator. He's basically what you would call something of a legend. He turned the tide of the Mandalorian Wars and defeated Mandalore the Ultmate in single-combat." He mused with what could be compared to a sense of glee. However before he could continue with his tale – the lead meatbag rudely interupted.

"Wait, hold a moment – did you just mention the mandalorian wars?" HK-47 knew that he was onto something. He would be spared for now despite his rudely interuption. The meatbag knew something about mandalorians which could mean either two things. There's a mandalorian here on this backwater planet or two; there was someone here whom told the meatbags about mandalorians.

"Explanation: Why yes – Revan rallied the Jedi and stepped in as Supreme Commander of the Republic Forces during the Mandalorian wars. The Mandalorians were pushing and tearing the Republic apart before he stepped in and saved the Galaxy." He recited to the meatbags. The lead meatbag rudely decided to leave abruptly while talking into some primitive communication device but given the circumstances. It was a good day.

...

The Command Center was the robust and beating heart of SHIELD operations on foreign soil. Safely away from prying eyes of both east and west. Away from scrutiny on their continent of origin. It was also in perfect position to monitor acitivties outside the US and was spearheading the effort to track down the Digital Scourge. Jarik felt apprehensive when he was requested in there. Apparently they found something they like to call an 0-8-4 meaning an object of unknown origin in the Sahara Desert. Whatever they found seemed to have given them a idea that he could be of use.

Director Fury was there and watched the monitoring duties of the analysts as Jarik stood at attention. "Thank you for coming, Avner." He greeted, underneath the helmet Jarik almost grimaced. It wasn't his real name but it was as good as any considering the circumstances.

"What spooked you to call me in?" Jarik inquired while they shook hands; not really fond of being summoned like a pet dog. However it seemed important otherwise Fury wouldn't have called him and he hadn't left the base yet to resume his operations in Africa.

"Straight to buisness. Very well." Director Fury mused before turning around and gave an order. "Show it on screen." The big monitor started to display the image of… no, it couldn't be. The Curved shape of the freighter; the coloring while fading and markins. They were unmistakable.

"That's impossible." Jarik murmured, perhaps a bit too loud as the Director snapped it up.

"So you do recognize it?"

"That's the Ebon Hawk – a dynamic-class freighter of legendary status which been missing for the last thirty seven centuries." Jarik explained.

"Good then perhaps you can confirm the droid's story aswell."

It was a statement which made Jarik's blood go cold. "What droid?" Jarik answered, a sense of apprehension dawning upon him. Fury noticed the tone of which he spoke and his face became adamant with determination.

"Looks like a human-sized robot with a rusty chasis—" The Director started to explain in a matter of fact manner but Jarik cut him off.

"Does he vocally prefix every statement with a speech conditional that describes what kind of statemant it is?" The Director didn't speak but nodded curtly in affirmation. "Then congratulations, Director. You've not just found one of the most sought after ship from my galaxy but also the ultimate killing machine." Jarik continued with an apprehensive tone.

There was a moment of absolute silence in the command center while the information sank in. "Does he pose a threat to us?" Fury inquiried adamantly as if he was expecting the worst.

"He's an assassination droid, he specializes in eliminating specific targets. If **any** of your operatives engages him then they're good as dead." Jarik elaborated, putting an emphasis in the word **any** to explain that not even Black Widow or Hawkeye stood a chance. "Even a Mandalorian wouldn't stand much of a chance. He's calculating and got aces in spades."

"Then what do you recommend?" That was a good question. HK-47 wasn't the ultimate killing machine for nothing. It wouldn't surprise Jarik if he was the Digital Scourge which SHIELD was after but he didn't need to tell Fury about that. However what did he want. If what Jarik suspected was accurate then he would've been stuck under the sand for thirty seven centuries. What disturbed him the most was the prospect of HK-47 not having any master to take orders from – something which made the droid all the more dangerous.

"We play along and see if we can figure out what he wants." He finally said in hope that it could all be solved without a massacre. Patience was the key. The Director of Shield let out a weary sigh – obviously not liking the idea.

"Fair enough. The droid and the space ship will be taken to the Sandbox. It's the closest facility and is where we keep hazardous materials." There was a brief pause before the Director spoke once again. "He'll be kept under suirveilence while you lead the investigation onboard the ship. You're more familiar with the technology but we won't be sending you alone. Hawkeye and STRIKE team Epsilon will escort you – they will wait for you at the hangar."

Jarik nodded, it was a sound plan. They used his expertise while also keeping eyes on him as to make sure he doesn't do anything behind their back. "Understood." The Director curtly nodded to one another before Jarik left the Command Center. Making his way through the corridors of security personnel and suirveillence cameras to reach the hangar. As expected a Quinjet was ready for departure. He saw the STRIKE team waiting outside but among them was a familiar face – Hawkeye.

"I thought you had left?" Jarik spoke while on approach.

"My orders were to sit tight and come after you should you go rogue." Hawkeye responded, blunt and to the point. "Anyhow, this John Bradford. STRIKE Team Epsilon's CO."

The introduction was timed well as the man in question stood between them and the ramp. John Bradford was a caucasian man with short-cut hair adhering to military principles along with a chisled jawline decorated by a stubble. "So you're the Mandalorian." He inquired with his hoarse voice. Jarik merely nodded his affirmative.

"It's alright, my ex-wife isn't much of a talker either." He recieved no laughter from that icebreaker. Not that it normally would with his no-sense attitude before he waved them over to come aboard the Quinjet. The STRIKE team as tactically geared and armed with slugthrowers – their equilivant of battle rifles. Jarik could sense it though – they didn't want to be here.

"I assume that you've been briefed?"

Hawkeye nodded in affirmative as they sat down and strapped themselves in.

"All we know is that we're heading to the Sandbox. Escorting you to investigate the 0-8-4 they found in the Sahara Desert while HK-47 is kept under suirveilence." The SHIELD Agent responded. Jarik felt the engines kick up a notch as they made their ascent into the skies. "There's a lot of trust put into you. However this is a reassurance packet in case you seek to use the ship in some manner which isn't – benefical."

"The Ebon Hawk isn't just a ship. It's a symbol. If it was found back in my Galaxy. It would the find of the milennia." The tone Jarik used broke no debate. Take it apart and you'll end up regretting it.

"It's an 0-8-4 and taken to the Sandbox. It'll be kept in containment." The response from Hawkeye made Jarik sigh as he shook his head.

"An extraterestial craft capable of interstellar flight and you'll just kept it in storage." The undertone of sarcasm didn't go over Hawkeye's head. Instead he squinted his eyes but didn't respond. The rest of the flight to the Sandbox was quiet. The STRIKE team shared a few verbal jabs against one another along the way but generally left Jarik alone.

Everyone except their Commanding Officer whom kept studying him throughout the flight. Jarik started to feel a tingling sensation towards the end of it. A presence in the force much like the one he felt back in Abidjan. Except it wasn't obscured to his senses; no he felt the presence calling for him. This sensation persisted and only got stronger when they touched down at the Sandbox.

They all rose in unision as they disembarked from the Quinjet. Jarik heard the thud above as the hatch of the land platform was sealed. Ahead of him by the doorway was his reception committee. There was two men with black suits and ties along with a few SHIELD security personnel. One of the men was of darker complexion with a clean-shaven scalp and glass while the other one was more narrow with greying hair and scrutinizing stare. "Welcome to the Sandbox. I'm Agent Blake and to my right is Agent Sitwell." The elderly agent said ever so cordially. "If you would please come with me."

With those words, Agent Blake and Sitwell turned about. Jarik supposed that quick introduction was more for his benefit rather than theirs. Hawkeye and Bradford certainly knew whom they were. They didn't bother for him to introduce himself so they certainly must know whom he is, or atleast they think they did.

They were lead through various checkpoints and corridors; frequently coming across a few other security personnel. "Learned anything new from the droid?" Hawkeye asked generally to the agents.

"So far it's co-operative despite its insistence on calling people meatbags." Sitwell answered stiffly, "It's right now under surveillance at engineering." At the last checkpoint, one of the security personnel whispered something into Agent Blake's ear. The man frowned and let out a sigh before he excused himself from their presence in the company of additional SHIELD security personnel. Jarik had no doubt that it somehow involved HK-47 which didn't really put him at ease. Yet the presence he sensed merited his full attention.

They finally reached the large container unit where the Ebon Hawk stood, held up by cranes and supporting structures. The ramp was lowered but the landing skids was evidently damaged. About a dozen SHIELD personnel was waiting for them, probably the engineers and technicians. Jarik stopped dead in his tracks. The Force was very strong here – and it was calling for him. Master Xoveth would've cided him for his reluctance and tell him to trust the Force to guide him right. Jarik couldn't help but smile at the memory of when he first became his apprentice.

The Mirakula's first lesson was for him to wear a blindfold – for a month. This forced him to rely on the Force and trust his instincts. He diligently abided by his teachings – he slept blindfolded and orientated while blindfolded. He even trained and sparred while blindfolded. The experience had given more insight of how the Mirakula was uniquely attuned to the Force – they looked human but was born without eyes.

He was taught about the ancient philosophy of Ashla and Bogan. He learned more intimatably about the Force as Xoveth's padawan than he did with his youngling clan.

 _Trust in the Force._ The words of Master Xoveth resonated within him as he approached the Ebon Hawk. The ship of his ancestor. He was in awe, standing in its presence.

"Something the matter?" Hawkeye asked. Agent Sitwell was frowning but refrained from speaking.

"I never expected to stand infront of the Ebon Hawk." Jarik answered softly, unable to hide the sense of awe in his voice. "One of the most sought after relic from the Old Republic Era."

It was when Agent Sitwell politely coughed that Jarik snapped out of it. He then noticed how Bradford had STRIKE Epsilon secure a perimeter. Jarik had to admire how they operated; splitting up into pairs and tactically position themselves to cover each others vectors. He approached one of the engineers with Hawkeye in tow and Sitwell next to him.

"Finally." The engineer murmured bitterly with no attempt to conceal it. "Took your sweet time gawking at it."

"I'm not in the habit of humouring engineers." Jarik retorted sternly as he stared the engineer down with his visor. The bravado evaporated in an instant. "Have you made an analysis of the exterior."

"Carbon dating confirms the droid's claim that it's been buried there for the past thirty seven centuries." The engineer replied, still a bit bitter but more composed. "It's amazingly well-preserved yet there are signs of faltering structural integrity. I hazard a guess that its engines are beyond repair at this point." Jarik nodded, the engineer's analysis was solid.

"None of you have gone inside?" Jarik asked, cordially this time. The engineer shook his in a negative.

"We were told to wait for you." Agent Sitwell responded before the engineer answered. "Director's orders."

"Very well, let's get started then." Jarik said as he then took the first step up the ramp.

...

HK-47 wasn't amused. Here he was inside somesort of meatbag facility with orders prohibiting him from conducting unadulterated violence. No, instead he was in their poor excuse of a engineering bay where one of the pathetic engieeers was unable to stop to keep his hands to himself. He haven't felt this agitated than he was in the possession of that ithorian Yuka Laka on Tatooine. "Indignation: Have you gone deaf? I've told you before that I'm well capable of performing maintenance on myself like I have for the past thirty seven centuries." HK-47 said sardonically to the engineering whom just couldn't just take the hint.

"You've been inside that ship for thirty seven centuries. We must—" The engineers spoke before he was cut off by HK-47 whom stood a few paces away with his photoreceptors staring him down.

"Objection: You most certainly must not!" The urge to tear apart limb from useless limb of this infuriating meatbag becoming more appealing by the second. "I'll not have a inferior meatbag to meddle with my hardware." This went one for a while. The other engineers have taken the hint but this one with that tag on his coat, what did it say. Denvers? Well, he was certainly the most persistant of all the meatbags.

The door slid open in came another one of those strangely dressed meatbags in that black suit and that strange thing around the neck. "Denvers, what's the matter?" The man asked, he was older with a more narrow face with grey hair.

"Agent Blake, The droid isn't allowing me to perform maintenance on him." Engineer Denvers answered almost pleadingly. Agent Blake perked a brow as he turned towards the droid expecting any answer.

"Statement: I've successfully maintained myself for thirty seven centuries. I've no need for that meatbag to poke around my hardware." HK-47 said, the sardonic undertone was still present. How he wished that he could just get this farce over with so he could return to his primary function.

Agent Blake threw Denvers a glance. "Do you have any knowledge of extraterestial technology?" He simply said, Denvers looked like he was about to speak but then shut his mouth. "I thought as much. HK-47, please accept our apologies."

"Amendment: Apology accepted." HK-47 responded as he narrowed his photoreceptors. The smooth tone of the agent when he expressed his apology wasn't genuine unlike the engineers interest in his hardware. It was all too smooth ever since they reported to a Director Fury. Something was off. It was almost like they knew about his function. There was a probability that whomever told them about the Mandalorian Wars must've told them about him. He wasn't moved from the ship to communicate. No, they were keeping him here so whomever told them could get a closer look at the ship. HK-47 was left alone and went over to one of the meatbags standing in-front a computer and shoved it aside. He quickly sliced into the mainframe and was granted root access to their servers – processing terabites of information.

"Observation: Hold your processors, is that a Jedi? " HK-47 suddenly blurted out in astonishment as he watched a file from a security camera showing a Mandalorian fighting against some of the primitive meatbags with slugthrowers. He was the ultimate Jedi Killer thus he recognize their way of fighting, their stance and the way the walk. That mandalorian despite his appearance was a Jedi, his application of Ataru in close quarters combat was the confirmation.

"Why yes it is." He suddenly blurted in what could be recognized as astonishment. The meatbag which he had shoved aside was calling for assistance over the intercom. HK-47 couldn't help but feel his circuits buzzing with anticipation. Through the doors came more meatbags but now with slugthrowers.

"Statement: It's time to put an end – to hostilities."

 _ **A/N:** My apologies for the delay of this chapter. A lot of things has happened in my life since the last update. It's rough but I'm managing, I've updated the previous chapters to make some corrections along with making a slight alteration to Jarik's background. Those whom have read the chapters before this update may haven noticed that instead of Rahm Kota being Jarik's Master; it's an OC Miraluka named Xoverth. I concluded that Rahm Kota wasn't ideal considering where I wanted the story to progress._

I hope to update this story with another chapter in the very near future. Until then, I wish you a merry christmas and a happy new year.

Yours sincerely,  
efhb1994


	7. The Last Directive

It felt Surreal – walking up to the holo-terminal of the Ebon Hawk. The Dynamic-class freighter had obviously seen better says but it was admittingly in a relatively good condition. Well preserved despite having been submerged in sand for the past thirty seven centuries. Jarik could feel the ebbs and flow of the Force which neither aligned with the Light or the Dark, or Ashla and Bogan as his master would've called it.

"Incredible." One of the SHIELD technicians said as she looked, unable to conceal the glee or excitement of being aboard an Extraterrestrial Spacecraft.

Jarik paid her no heed as he approached the holo-terminal. It was still functional. He had expected the wiring to have eroded by now but apparently it wasn't the case. While the ship waa by itself well-preserved, it was still a shipwreck and there were no delusions about expecting any systems onboard to be operational. Yet here there was a technology far more ancient than the earliest civilizations of mankind still operating. "It still has power." Jarik noted, for the others benefit as he approached the console. However, before he could access anything; the holo-terminal's emitter flickered. Everyone turned their attention to the holographic projection which was now illuminating the room. He could make out its appearance – it was the stark and contrasting figure of Revan himself in his armored garb and mask.

"The Force is with me and I'm one with the Force." His ancestor said as the image flickered. Jarik recognized the quote from the Journal of the Whills. "I fear nothing, for all is as the Force wills it."

Jarik could sense how the engineer from earlier was staring at the flickering image of Revan. "Who is that? " she asked, tilting her head as she approached the holo-terminal. "Why is he speaking english?"

"That is Revan. He whom is neither Jedi or Sith." Jarik answered as if on impulse. "As for why he's speaking english. I don't know, probably translated beforehand."

"Which means that HK-47 has been monitoring us for a while before that distress signal went out." Hawkeye continued the train of thought as his expression hardened. "We're being played."

"Yes – but not by HK-47." Jarik said, his gaze fixed upon Revan; leaving the implication hanging.

"You can't be serious." Hawkeye replied sceptically, "You did say that he lived thousands of years ago."

"The only reason that HK-47 would translate this recording – or anything for that matter is because he was ordered to do so." Jarik mused as he turned about to face Hawkeye whom he sensed was skeptical. A skepticism which Jarik could grasp – Hawkeye had no knowledge or experience with the Force. "Especially a passage from the Journal of the Whills. HK-47 wouldn't translate it for the fun of it." ' _Revan could've spoken the recording in english knowing that I would come here.'_ He thought to himself, knowing that revealing such a possibility to Hawkeye wouldn't do them any good. No, they had to focus but what could he do. What did Revan want him to do?

This was carefully orchestrated. Everything was starting to fall into place like pieces of a puzzle. Everything to the hyperdrive malfunction which not only brought him to Earth but also stranded him. The distress signal which lead to the salvaging of the Ebon Hawk. In consideration of this and all other factors. It was incontrovertible. This was the will of the Force.'

Jarik couldn't help but wonder, had everything that happened – the rise of the Galactic Empire and the purge of the Jedi been the will of the Force? Had his master been right about the Jedi having lost their way?

"This is a trap. We need to lockdown the base." Hawkeye said exasperatingly while his fingers moved to apply pressure to his earpieace. "Hawkeye to Sandbox Central. HK-47 is playing us. This is a trap. Repeat, HK-47 is playing us. This is a trap." Hawkeye frowned as all he recieved are the buzzing static sound. The expression on his face spoke for him, their communications was jammed.

"We're out of time then." Jarik absent-mindednly, he felt the Force calling to him. The swirling gale of dark and light beckoning him into the hallway leading to the Port section and the Cargo Hold. _'The Force is with me and I'm one with the Force. I fear nothing, for all is as the Force wills it.'_ He felt the Force guiding his every step out of the communications room into a hallway. He disregarding Hawkeye's shouting as he stepped into the Cargo Hold, a mess with plenty of useless debris and sand.

He passed it all and reached the very end and faced a wall. It looked so ordinary like any other wall onboard. Yet he knew that something was hidden and remained hidden for a very long time. _'And now it's calling to me.'_

He reached out and touched one of worn wall panels out of instinct. It gave way, and behind it was a bundle wrapped in a brown cloak. Inside of it was the mask of Revan, that iconic vertical visor was unmistakable and next to it was a lightsaber hilt. Revan's lightsaber.

He reached out and was about to touch the mask when he suddenly snapped back to reality. He had sensed the flickering lights of life which then was extinguished. _'HK-47 is going on a killing spree, and only I can stop him.'_ He thought, grasping around Revan's lightsaber hilt before he turned to face the quizzical stare of Hawkeye.

"Care to explain what's got into you?" Hawkeye asked apprehensively with an arrow nocked onto the bowspring. his gaze set upon the lightsaber in his hand and the now not-so-hidden' compartment behind him. "You got some explaining to do."

Time was of the essence, a Jedi didn't seek conflict but neither do they shy away from it. The more time he spent here, the more lives would be lost. "HK-47 only answers to his master." Jarik said simply, reaching out for the Mask of Revan. The moment he touched it, he could feel the Force flowing through i. It was daunting but it also felt familiar, like if he was being embraced by an old friend. "And the only master whom he respects – is the one whom created him."

...

It had all started with an emergency through the facility's intercom from engineering. The very same place where they kept that droid under suirveillience. The Base's Security Personnel and the STRIKE personnel on site was dispatched immediately to detain the threat.

That's when it all went FUBAR. Everything went dark – from the lighting to all sorts of communications. HK-47 had somehow managed to cut the power and jammed all their means of communcation which essentially made SHIELD blind to what was going on inside. It didn't help that the air conditioning wasn't working anymore as the sudden temperature change inside the facility was a most unpleasant change.

Agent Felix Blake watched as the evacuating personnel followed the emergency lights to the quinnjet platforms. Everything else was by the book, all security check-points were reinforced by the security personnel on reserve while the remaining STRIKE teams were fine combing through the facility with a shoot-on-sight order on HK-47.

The problem was the lack of communication and tactical co-ordination of squads. They were quite literally in the dark and blind to what was happening. Agent Blake wouldn't admit it but deep down he was terrified. HK-47 had turned the table on them and they were now stuck in its killzone. He sure didn't like it but there best bet was right now the Mandalorian.

He kept glancing over his shoulder, his pistol was drawn and safety was disabled. All his years of training and experience was all which helped him keep his cool. The air felt tougher to breath – dry and unventilated. The temperature was on the rise and in a few hours, he was sure that they all would feel like they were boiling up if they didn't keep themselves hydrated. He could feel his heart beat harder in his chest and his every breathe becoming more heavy. The hair at the end of his neck was rising while he approached the large container unit for the recently acquired 0-8-4 was kept. It was quiet, unnervingly quiet as he stepped closer until he suddenly came to a stop.

Two eyes, glowing a menacing dull red was peeled at him. A shadowy silhoute of something menacing which didn't blink. Agent Blake raised his pistol and fired at point-blank range. No effect, the figure kept standing as all he heard was the shots merely clanking sound of theim impacting and richoting upon the armored chasis. "Mockingly: Your civlization really do bring meatbag inferiority to a whole new level with your slugthrowers."

Felix could feel his heart better faster and fired whatever remained of his clip but to no avail. He could feel the cold grip of metal around the collar of his shirt – dragging him inside the large container unit and tossed to the ground. No wonder why they couldn't contain HK-47, their weapons literally had no effect on the droid whatsoever. However something about how the droid behaved didn't make sense, why hadn't the droid killed him right there and then? "Statement: I do admire the ingenuity of building a base in the middle of a desert and call it – The Sandbox." The Droid sardonically said, all the while pinning the Agent to the floor with one of his feet. "Statement: I know that you are here Jedi, show yourself or this meatbag dies." The droid boomed with the ever-so-menacing synthetic voice. Felix could feel the muzzle of a shotgun be pressed against his frontal globe. For a moment, he felt his heart stop beating, his breath became more ragged and heavy as the pressure upon his chest increased. He was going to die.

…

"As you wish." He said, walking down the ramp with deliberately heavy steps. It had taken some persuasion to get STRIKE Epsilon inside the Ebon Hawk, fortunately reason had won them over in the end. Especially since Hawkeye vouched for his plan, but mostly because there was no other option.

Jarik Shan stood merely paces away from HK-47. Although he now wore the brown cloak whose simple and short shouldercape tightened around the neck. Concealing the gaps of his armor while the hood rested against his neck.

It was dark but he learned long ago that he didn't need eyes to see. Jarik saw everything despite the darkness – using the Force alone to feel everything down to the nooks and crannies.

He could feel the presence of the fearful agent kept hostage by HK-47 whom despite his presence was a void due to the fact that he wasn't alive.

The shotgun pointed not at him, but upon the agent on the floor.

"Let him go, HK-47. Enough life has been extinquished today." He spoke again, commanding.

"Statement: You pick it up very quickly. Impressive, for a meatbag." The droid reaponded, it was unnerving how HK-47 was actually able to convey emotions with his vocabulator, "Query: Why are you hiding and pose as a Mandalorian on this backwater planet?"

"That is not what this is about." Jarik saw the Agent flinched as the muzzle of the slugthrower pressed against the forehead.

"Statement: Oh, but it is. I've waited for a long time for this moment." The dimly lit photoreceptors seemed to gleam with delight. Jarik understood the significance of HK-47 had just said, it was an ultimatum.

"You want a confession." He responded and sighed _._ In many ways, he was cornered. For one, he couldn't let the Agent die. It doesn'matter if he was just a stranger. Everyone deserved a chance to live, not everyone deserved death. Too many had already died by HK-47's hands but he was just a droid doing the bidding of his master. He had only one option, reveal himself or the Agent and whom knows else will die. Then again, he knew that this moment was inevitable. That one day, he would've to choose to reveal himself or betrayal his principles.

Jarik grasped around his helmet and removed it from his head; grateful for the lack of lighting to reveal his features. The stubbled jaw, the brooding grey eyes and dark hair adorning his buzzcut cranium. "I'm Jarik, the last of Revan's line." He actually felt relieved having said that out loud. It was liberating in so many ways. He had spent too long as a Mandalorian.

He brought the Mask of Revan forth from underneath the brown cloak – and put it on. The cold touch of it upon his face was different to his Mandalorian helmet but he felt embraced by it like an old friend. "And I gave you an **order**." He continued, his voice booming deeply through the Mask's voxscrambler. He felt the diverging effect it had on the Force. How the Light and the Dark converged in a flux around him. It was like a static charge had unleashed as the Ebon Hawk started to creek and groan while speckles of dust, grains of sand and even some of the tech-teams equipment started to levitate. HK-47 didn't seem the least intimidated by the sudden shift of atmosphere.

"Delightful Affirmation: Yes Master. Finally Revan's last directive is achieved!" The Assassination Droid exclaimed joyfully while somehow still sounded menacing. The Assassin Droid pulled away the slugthrower and the foot which had pinned Agent Blake down.

The Agent in question had the look of horror mixed with awe on his face. Jarik heard the footsteps of STRIKE Epsilon come down the ramp along with Hawkeye with their weapons brandished. Jarik was already helping Blake up to his feet when he was facing them and the flashlights. The creeking had ceased along with the levitating objects which just fell to the ground.

The expression on their faces told Jarik that he had reached the point of no return – his life had just become a lot more complicated. _'The Force is with me and I'm one with the Force. I fear nothing, for all is as the Force wills it.'_

 **A/N:** _This story isn't dead yet, although I do once again apology for the delay of this chapter. Life is seldom predictable and my writing has evidently suffered for it. Especially considering that my job demands a lot of focus and energy which more often than not leave me mentally spent afterwards. However I've managed to write this chapter in hope to move the story onwards._ _Some minor details in the story has changed to fit the story better. Time permitting, I will update the previous chapters to be up to par when it comes to grammar._

 _Yours sincerely,_  
 _efhb1994_


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